


Entr'acte:The Corellian Father-Son Dance

by B_Radley



Series: Rise and Fight Again [6]
Category: Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Compliant, Father-Son Relationship, Ficlet, Gen, Guilt, Love, Politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 05:56:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9706130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/B_Radley/pseuds/B_Radley
Summary: A father reflects on the causes of a rift in the embryonic Rebellion.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Merfilly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/gifts).



> From a prompt by Merfilly.
> 
> Author's Note: My version of the dispute between Mon Mothma and Garm Bel Iblis is different from the Legends universe. It takes place earlier in the Rebellion and the motivations and reasons for the dispute are different to fit the narrative of this 'verse, which I try to be canon compliant.
> 
> Hope that you enjoy! Please comment!

Draq' Bel Iblis watches his son argue with Mon Mothma for the fourth time in two hours. Over four different subjects.

Subjects ranging from contact protocols for Fulcrum, their primary intelligence agent in this...whatever it was, to the correct pairing with a rare peppercorn-and-brandy nerf steak.

Some would say that the fruit does not fall far from the _Jaara_ tree.

Or the nut, others would say. Very few to a Bel Iblis's face.

Draq's expression grows sad as he thinks of what this dispute is doing to a movement for freedom in the galaxy. The light against the darkness.

A dispute born of a marriage. A marriage to a woman so enamored of the Imperial cause. Of the New Order, that she spends more time with the Imperial Advisor of Corellia than her own family.

A woman that Garm Bel Iblis loves more than anything he has known.

Draq' has experienced this kind of all-consuming love three times in his life. The first, the daughter of an Elder Family. A beautiful woman who took an abandoned orphan, who had pulled himself up by his bootstraps to her heart and to her family. 

A woman who had never once said anything about his beginnings. A wife who had only ever expressed her pride and love in his accomplishments. Accomplishments that had brought him to the pinnacle of every thing that he attempted.

A woman, who with her beloved brother, the heir to the nearest thing to a throne that their world possessed, had fought the narrow-minded elements of their family with him.

A brother-in-law who had grown closer to Draq' than most brothers.

A woman who had only given him love, as well as his nickname.

Enough love to produce this mercurial Senator, before her death.

A rare condition, they said. One that manifested itself in childbirth.

Another, a beautiful, laughing Zeltron engineer, who had taken a grieving Corellian reserve officer to her heart. An officer on her homeworld, partially to escape the responsibility for the angry twelve year old who stared at him accusingly at everything that he did.

To escape that angry face, so like his own, but with the dark eyes of his mother's mother..

He smiles again as he thinks of the beautiful officer, her crimson skin and purple eyes looking at him in sympathy from across the room. Sympathy mixed with that same hint of snark and laughter from her mother. _Living life to its fullest._

His eyes grow dark as he thinks of those rare loves.

As a lull in the battle stills the tense atmosphere in the room, Draq' thinks of a child's greatest triumph. A powerful oration to the Republic Senate, outlining why the Five Brothers of Corellia would not fight in the Great Separatist War. 

But would not fight against the Republic, either.

A stance dedicated to the principle that one man could not and should not have that much power amassed.

A stance that was all for naught when that same man, citing the horrors of an attempted coup by the Jedi, had declared an Empire. Had slaughtered those same Jedi. Murdering beloved friends, allies, lovers, and even family.

Including the love and heart-bond of that beautiful Zeltron officer and a man who was the hope of their world's dynasty.

He notices Garm looking at him. He nods gently. That night of nights, when the Jedi had died, he had seen the look of abject, visceral horror on his boy's face.

The look of pain and guilt at his greatest triumph.

A speech that had kept Corellia from the Republic. A speech that had kept Corellia from battling Palpatine's ambition from within.

His greatest triumph, turned into his greatest failure.

At least in his mind.

A thought, a seed in his mind that also drives this dispute. A vow never to run away. Never to go inward. Never to take half-measures.

A vow that runs directly counter to Mon Mothma's desire for a peaceful solution; with violence as a last resort.

A vow based in a mistake. A mistaken view that Corellia could have prevented the death of the Jedi and the death of the Republic.

A mistaken view that does not run counter to a father's love and pride of and for his son.

Draq' Bel Iblis, the Dragon of Corellia walks over and puts his hands on the shoulders of his son. He gently, ever so gently, squeezes.

The subtle signal to a younger version that it was time to go. Garm's face still bears his thunderous expression, but stands and bows to the assemblage over the remnants of dessert and coffee.

The young Zeltron officer walks next to Garm. She puts her arm through his and smiles up at him warmly. His expression softens and he laughs at something she says. As he walks from the room, Garm gives the slight smile and nod to his father.

The look that always bespoke his love and respect, in no words and with spare emotion and movement. A look between them, between steel blue eyes and dark, that had the same meaning for both of them.

As his son and daughter walk out, Draq' thinks of that third love. A woman so dedicated to freedom, to her world, that they are only able to seize moments, seconds really of light and joy together.

Moments and seconds over the last three years. Since the world died. He shakes his head at his ghosts and his challenges. 

He looks into the brilliant blue eyes of this love. Her thunderous expression eases into one of calmness. Her eyes grow soft and warm for him. The calmness that is usually found on her face. 

She smiles at him. 

A smile that speaks of struggle and sadness for both of them, born of an evil and a darkness that permeates the galaxy and their worlds.

A smile that speaks of understanding and acceptance of their families and their foibles.

Another look just for him.


End file.
